


Drown

by Canary (MirrorLady)



Series: Survive [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Development, Depressed Lance, I really ran away with this, I'm mean, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance-centric, Langst, M/M, Mental Illness, Self-Discovery, Self-Esteem Issues, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, but I'm stingy, homesick Lance, it's a continuation, klance, lance - Freeform, lance is a sad boy, mindscape, so this is part two, yay, young lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 00:24:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12200280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorLady/pseuds/Canary
Summary: Set after Distraction (White Noise), Lance has a bit of amnesia. He ends up nearly dying in his own head.“There’s nothing wrong with being different.” Lance tried to keep his voice from quavering. “Everyone’s different. Imagine how boring it’d be if we were all the same.”The boy looked at him, disbelieving. “You don’t really believe that.” Lance’s smile faded.“No. I don’t. But there’s no use being sad. Even if sad is all people like us feel.” Lance frowned at the bitter words. He didn’t like how they had become a fact of life, a constant. The boy looked down at his crowns, setting them aside.He leaned forward on his arm.So for everyone who asked for a sequel. Enjoy!





	Drown

**Author's Note:**

> So as usual, read, have fun. Dedicates to those who asked for a sequel. Thank you for supporting me! It really means a lot. This fic is close to my heart.
> 
> So here's your daily cup of Langst!
> 
> Enjoy!

 

**_Why can’t I remember? Why?_ **

_The little boy stood in the meadow of blue flowers, blue as his eyes._

_The little boy was weaving little crowns. Several sat haphazardly on his head already. He kept weaving though, in the blue-eye flowers. The little boy looked up as Lance came closer._

_The little boy sniffed and started to cry. As his tears fell to the ground, the flowers around him wilted, and crumbled to dust._

_Lance smiled softly at him. “A beautiful boy like you shouldn’t cry.” The boy looked up, and the tears stopped. The boy began speaking._

_“I’m wrong, I’m bad, I’m a mess-up. I’m not supposed to feel like this. I'm so sad and no one likes me and I'm nice but then the thoughts hurt! But I don’t see why!” The boy’s voice started as a whisper and ended as a scream. Lance moved to comfort him, but he slipped through his arm. Lance wanted to hug him and squeeze him and tell him things would get better, but Lance was done with lying._

_The boy began making flower crowns again. Lance cleared his throat and asked him, "Why are you making all of these crowns?"_

_“The others don’t like me. They call me mean things because I’m weird. Mama said that everyone likes flower crowns. So I make one for each one." The boy moved his had, under and over, under and over. Lance looked at how scarred his hand was, wanting to wrap his small hands in bandages. The boy stopped, lips quivering. He continued in a small voice._

_"But no one wants them, not really. They laugh at me and call me horrible things. But I like them. I’m not different. I don’t want to be different.” But the boy sniffled. “But I guess I am.”_

_Lance’s heart ached. **Why did it hurt so much, even after all this time?**_

_“There’s nothing wrong with being different.” Lance tried to keep his voice from quavering. “Everyone’s different. Imagine how boring it’d be if we were all the same.”_

_The boy looked at him, disbelieving. “You don’t really believe that.” Lance’s smile faded._

_“No. I don’t. But there’s no use being sad. Even if sad is all people like us feel.” Lance frowned at the bitter words. He didn’t like how they had become a fact of life, a constant. The boy looked down at his crowns, setting them aside.He leaned forward on his arm._

_“Why do people like us feel sad? Do we deserve it? Are we bad people?” The boy asked earnestly. His wide blue eyes twinkled and shined, making Lance believe that there was more to this little boy._

_“We don’t deserve it, but we can survive. We’re cursed and blessed.” Lance took a see breath. “Sure, it hurts us and somedays we can’t get up. Somedays our brains decide to short out and shut down. Sometimes we can’t function. But we aren’t supposed to. We are blessed because we’re more sensitive to other's feelings. And while people hurt us....” Lance’s eyes filled with tears._

_“....our true friends care about us. And we become stronger. So what if we’re born a little softer than others? Soft becomes steel. We are steel. We are strong. We can survive.” Lance closes his eyes and says the truth aloud._

_“I’m strong, even if I’ve made mistakes. I can survive. I have to... there are people who love me waiting for me. Lance opened his eyes, sobbing now. The little boy reached up and placed a blue crown on Lance’s head, and dove into his arms. And both of them sobbed and held each other, as the blue flowers grew and grew..._

 

  
_Lance awoke to a sea of blue, unaware of where he was. He was swimming in Varadero, he was flying, he was..._

 

He was in the healing pod.

_Why was he in the healing pod?_

He can’t remember.

Or does he want to forget?

Flashes of red. Flashes of green, yellow, black, pink, orange.

Flashes and more. Sparks and swabs.

Lance was falling forward as the sea of blue turned white.

He was falling, but his legs were jelly. He was numb all over. He couldn’t feel anything for some dumb reason.

But Lance smiled softly as his friends crowded around him, like little birds.

He was in their arms, he was in their arms. Only one held back. Keith was close, but his clenched jaw and avoidance of Lance spoke volumes. Lance felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He swallowed and put on a well-worn smile. 

Hunk hugged him, sobbing, and Pidge punched him in the gut (for real, this time), then apologised and began to cry. Coran was full of m'boys and my lads, comforting, sad and relieved at once. Shiro pulled him into a bear hug and hoarsely told him to never, ever pull something like that again. Allura pulls him into a hug as well, and Lance is hit with how much she reminds him of Este. _They’re both remarkable women._

He doesn't remember what he did. It's all muffled and blurry like someone decided to put a block on it, like, _**"Lance shall not see this."**_ A few other details are blurry, like…there was something about the lions? He didn’t understand. He’d only ever flown Blue. Why was Red in his head? And why was Pidge’s hair longer than ever? When did Shiro get that scar? Lance is closer than ever to having a full-blown panic attack, but he channels all his energy (which isn’t much, mind you) into keeping a placid, blank smile on his face. Everyone looked so happy. Why would he ruin this for them, like he ruined everything else?

Only Allura notices that something's off though, and only when she does the mandatory scan. _(This scares Lance a bit. How in the world did he become such a great actor? Emilia used to say that Lance was a blank pallet, all his emotions splashed across.)_ She tearily waves the wand over him, as Hunk and Shiro pull him up. Her sappy smile is wiped off as she reads the wand, and she begins to frown. Lance feels a wave of sudden nausea as he feels like he’s about to keel over. He nearly falls over, but Hunk places him carefully on the cot.

He doesn’t like being treated like a porcelain doll. Mia showed him her family’s doll once, and she remembered thinking how boring the doll’s life must be. He shakes this off as Allura presses random buttons and tries not to feel so _numb_ and _empty_. It’s like someone dumped out all the Lanceness.

"What's this? Oh. An anomaly." Everyone is concerned as the reach to look at the screen, to no avail as no one was fluent in Altean yet. Coran leans forward as he takes the wand, eyes worried, as he realised what had happened. He hopes to all the celestial beasts that it is not what he fears it is.

Coran cleared his throat. “It seems like there is some sort of mental block. Something is preventing you from recollecting recent memories. Not all, some. But, m’boy, we must diagnose this quickly. So let us begin.” He cleared his throat and tugged his moustache. He was nervous. Scared, realised Lance.

The questions started out fairly simple. Where was he, what was Voltron, etc. With mostly ease, Lance answers them carefully. As the questions go on, he gets annoyed as the questions toughen. Then Coran nervously tugged his moustache as he decided to ask the next one, against his better judgement. He took a deep breath.

"M'boy, tell me, why were you in the pod? Please tell me." Coran looks at him expectantly, and everyone stares at him, even Keith, as Lance tries to remember. Everyone looks confused and concerned. If Lance didn't like to be ignored, then attracting attention for the wrong reason was even worse. Why do all his dreams come true, but for the wrong reasons?

"I was. I was... Was I shot? No wait, that doesn't.. make sense, but maybe? An ion cannon? Druid's spell? Hmm, it's close but...there's like...a wall or something. Wait...."  Lance tries to recall. He's close to tearing his hair out when his wrists fall into eyesight. His eyes widen, and he opens his mouth, about to scream.

He looks around, waiting for someone to refute what he thinks happened, waiting for someone to say something, anything, anything at all! But they don't and look at him with varying degrees of guilt and sadness. Keith still looks pissed though. Which puts Lance on end, because he doesn't want Keith to be mad at him. He never has. But it's not about Keith now.

Lance looks at his wrists, the horizontal incisions and touches them, softly. Lance whisper, hoarse, his voice echoing in the infirmary. No, please no, not again. Not again!

"I tried to kill myself, didn't I?" 

“Why?”

Silence.

And the silence chokes his throat, and he tries to claw his chest so he can breathe. He cannot. He's choking. He's tearing away from Shiro and Hunk, as everyone shifts into alertness. Pidge falls to the floor to catch his legs, Coran holding a syringe. Arms try to catch him, but he's running, he's running, he's running. He's flying through the halls. to his room, to Blue, to anywhere he's safe, away from there. From their pressing looks, sadness, their anger, their disappointment. Everything's empty, blurred, and Lance feels like someone scooped his heart out with an ice-cream scooper.

He crashes into a wall, but he doesn't care if he's bruised if he'd hurt. He's numb. His veins have stopped working. He's running, he's flying, he'd soaring into the observatory, pulling up a picture, the hologram of Earth. He spies a headset, and it has buttons and weird flashing lights. He fidgets with it, desperate to escape to fake-Earth. Because he wants to go home, where his siblings and cousins curl up into bed with him, where he had his meds, where he was wanted.

_When did he begin to hate space? **When did starry nebulas and cool planets just not cut it anymore?**_

In a flash, he reaches for it, just as footsteps turn through the hall. Lance turns his back to the door as he puts the headset on, pressing the buttons as he hears his team yelling behind him. He doesn't care. He's finally escaping. He's finally going elsewhere, anywhere, away from here. Arms grab him-pull him to the ground-

He's numb all over and his head is pounding. His heart beats arrhythmically, and it burns in his chest. Lance tries to feel his hands, his arms, his legs. He's trying to pull off the damn headset, trying.

His heart sings. ** _Readysetgoreadysetgoreadysetgo._** It hurts, it hurts, Jesus, God, Buddha save him.

Lance feels like he's falling, then he feels like he's falling through a glass wall as pain pricks through his body, cutting it. He wants to scream but he's choking on his tongue, and he feels himself spasming and retching bile.

He wants to call for help. Hunk! Coran! Pidge! Shiro! Allura! Keith!

It comes out as a strangled cry. " -un! An! Ij! Ro! Lura! Eith!" There are concerned looks, muffled screaming, sighs and pain and Lord take him it hurt so much! His mother's voice echoes hauntingly as she sings his lullaby.

 ** _Duérmete mi niño, duérmete mi_** amor  
**_Duérmete pedazo de mi corazón,_**  
**_(Sleep, my child, sleep my love,_**  
**_Sleep, piece of my heart)_**

  
Lance sighs. He got to hear his mother's voice. And he was escaping, was he not? Lance wouldn't be able to answer that.His heart sang loudly, thundering.

_Readysetgo,readysetgo,readyset... **Go.**_

He's gone.

 

  
Lance's stuck in the worst place.

His head.

Chemical spills threaten to drown him in their waves, Varadero's unnaturally green with acid, and he's falling.

Lance's choking in his own emotions.

Goddamit. His emotions are ugly, like him. Of course, it was here. The place he loved corrupted and destroyed like the fallout of a nuclear weapon. But no time for sad reminiscing, he's drowning, and maybe this is all in his head, maybe he's destined to spend eternity in this hellhole. But the water seems real enough.

The sea is one of those days when Mama would threaten him if he so much as stepped foot on the sand. She would scream about spirits and Naiads pulling him down under and stealing the air in his lungs. The water is so dark that it looks like blood, and Lance tries not to think about what that signifies about him. He spies ominous black rocks jutting up in the middle of the stormy water. Years of swimming is the only thing that saves him as he pushes himself toward the rock's direction. He screams as he feels things nip and bit his feet. The pain was real in this realm, like any other.

He's clawing his way up the slippery rocks out of the storm, scared as hell. Lighting flashes in the sky, as his fear reaches its peak. And Lance understands that this is his mindscape. This was quite uncomfortable and inconvenient and is not comforting in the least.

_Categorise. Analyse. Theorise._

Whatever he feels, this place will reflect. So Lance calms down his fear, and with it, the hurricane into a small storm. He images Varadero's calm blue waters, which are in stark conflict with this horrid parody in his head. He imagines tamales and churros and yummy ethnic foods. He tries not to feel hungry, and ultimately fails.Thunder rumbles every now and then as his anxiety sparks up every now and then, but Lance is grateful for the small mercies. He's still on the slippery black rocks, but he doesn't move. The sea is as deep as his sadness, and he would drown in it if he dove in.

God, he expected his mind to be prettier. _But of course, it was just as fucked up as he was._ He was almost smiling at the irony.  
Almost.

Lance stood up for a better view. There were various islands, each one more terrifying than the last. The first was completely grey, all

How close was the shore? It was far. So far. How was he going to make it? The rocks become slippery, as Lance tries to hold on, desperate, but in vain. He tumbles in with a crash and shouts in pain as the water tried to tear him apart.

 

_**'Cause sometimes to stay alive you gotta kill your mind** _

 

Lance slips into the sea and tries to swim toward the shore. It doesn't look very welcoming, not at all like home, but Lance won't give up. He can not. Slowly, he finds the strength to execute an even breaststroke. The water tries to overwhelming, and Lance chokes a considerable amount. The water splashes his face and the salt stings. The sky is so, so dark. An eclipse has blocked the remaining light. He pushes on, even as an every bone in his body screams for rest. He starts singing in his head, all the inspirational songs that he suddenly remembers. The songs are fleeting, save one. It's Gracie's favourite.

 

_**Uh-oh, running out of breath, but I** _  
_**Oh, I, I got stamina** _

_**Another cut into the water, as he kicks.** _

_**Well, oh, I got stamina** _  
_**And uh-oh, I see another mountain to climb** _

 

He swallows some water and hastily spits it out, almost choking in the process.

 

_**Don't give up, I won't give up** _  
_**Don't give up, no no no** _  
_**Don't give up, I won't give up** _  
_**Don't give up, no no no** _

 

He matches each breath and kicks to the lyrics. He remembers his family. His wonderful family, who loves him. Suddenly, the stormy, almost black water begins to clear into the crystal blue. He smiles.

_Come on Lance, happy thought! Happy thoughts!_

Memories flood into his mind as he rushes through them.

Amarie's second birthday. Mama and Dad's anniversary. Abuelita's hair salon. Este's pretty coming-out dress. Emilia's happy smile at her Quince. His Mama's lullabies. Gracie graduating proudly at her graduation. Sophia and Raoul's little skit at Kindergarten. Roberto's sappy smile as he and Mia danced at their wedding, the loud music. The food, the sounds, the way Home was! His friends-

Lance screams in joy and fear and relief. **"I say Vol-, you say-"**

Suddenly his mind floods with noises. It takes a few minutes to process. It's all of their voices! It's mushed together and not all that melodious with Coran's high-pitched voice and Hunk's deep bass.

**"Lance! You idiot, why! Come back, please! You have to talk to us! M'boy, please, we're worried! We-"**

 

All of this is cut off as one voice screams. **"VOLTRON, you bloody bastard! Wake up! WAKE UP, LANCE! You IDIOT! WAKE UP! WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP!" The voice sobs, quietly. _"Lance Mcclain, I love you!_ We all love you! So wake up, you ass!"**

 

Lance freezes as he realised he's on shore. He's made it. He turns back, and jumps in shock, as the crystal waters gently ride to the shore. But-they-he... He gives up. He was weird, his mindscape was weirder. He's walking forward, as he towards for a familiar little blue boy.

The boy smiles at him, tears all gone. He's not weaving flower crowns anymore. He looks, strangely odd without them falling over his eyes and face.Lance stared at his wrists. They're scared and blemished. They look ugly no matter the age. He stares into his eyes, those same eyes. He opens his mouth to ask what the hell was going on. But only one question falls from his mouth.

"Where are all your crowns, Little Lance? Why did you stop?" Lance is afraid for a minute, as Little Lance smiles, two teeth missing. _It's like the sun decided to shine again. Oh, wait. It really did._

"I don't need to make them anymore!" He giggles. He turns and points behind him. "Look!"

And Lance looked, and his mouth fell slack.

A crowd of people, his Mama singing and smiling, Dad strumming a guitar. Gracie was playing with Sophia while Raoul tries to climb a tree. Este danced and Mia held baby Cleo in her arms. Roberto was making barbeque, and Abuelita and Abuelito danced in a way that told every one of their timeless love. Papa and Laure were sitting together as well, Laura’s stomach heavy with pregnancy as Olive and Marcus ran over to Raoul. Cousin Mica, Uncle Renzo, and Aunt Dolores were walking over, finally making it to the party. Finally talking to each other again.

His old friends were there too, and Lance smiled as he remembered all the great memories they had. He missed them, and since Lance was a butterfly, there was no shortage of them. He picked out the nearest, Amarie and Samuel and Kristina. Jon and Jeffery and Jessica sitting in a circle, playing cards. Charity and Agathe we’re making out, as they never confessed their love to each other when Lance was was with them. He hoped they had found happiness in each other now. 

  
He turned a bit more as he gasped in shock. Shiro sat in the flowers too, and Pidge playing in the grass. In between them sat Matt, who looked quite similar to Pidge. Hunk was talking to Allura, who looked at the blue flowers with fascination. Coran was speaking jovially to another man, who held a startling resemblance to Allura.

  
Rolo and Nyma were wrestling each other, for some weird reason.  And Kolivan and the Blade were having a tea party.  A pretty Galra Lady hugged Keith, and Lance could see the resemblance. Keith catches his eye, as he smiles at him. Lance flushes. He ducks and turns his attention back to Little Lance.

"I...dont understand. How?" L.L. smiled cheekily. Lance has an urge to smirk. Of course, his younger self would figure it out before he did.

"Look at all their heads." And Lance does.

 

All of them have flower crowns, woven messily and with care. All of them do. Lance looks at L.L. again.

"I made them one, each one of them. And I have extras, in case I need them. But...but I don't have to pretend anymore, that I'm not sad. They all love me anyway. And if they can love me...I can love myself." Little Lance holds out his hand to Lance. "I'm steel remember? I'm steel as long as I have them, all of these memories." He looks imploringly at Lance. Lance stares at it, scared.

 _He'll leave this paradise if he takes L.L.'s hand. Here, his family lives, his friends are kind, and_ he's _home._

But home isn't here anymore. Or rather, it is, but Home is anywhere with the people he loves. And he still has a universe to save. He has a mullet to confess too. He had Hunk's to hug and Pidge to hang with and Allura to tease. He has Coran's story and Shiro's dad wisdom. He has... a family. And while his head may be offering a truce, he doesn't want it anymore.

**He may hate space, but he loves the people.**

And... they love him. _**They love him, they love him, they love him.**_

And he knew that goddammit, there was no cure. He would be depressed till his last breath. He would die this way. Somedays he wouldn't be able to get up, and somedays he'll need a razor. Somedays, his head will try to kill him, his heart and soul against his dysfunctional brain. But he'll win this time.

**_He's never going to give up. Not anymore._ **

Lance hesitated and looks toward the sea for a minute, and then back at his friends and family, and back at L.L., He grabs reaches for his hands and the light blinds him as the world in his head fades into white. The flat light sears unpleasantly as Lance suddenly sits up, gasping.

  
_He’s alive, he’s okay, his mind didn’t kill him._

**He’s okay.**

 

_I was born in a thunderstorm. I grew up overnight. I played alone, I played on my own, I survived._

_I’m alive._

**Author's Note:**

> So, explanations as usual. Part of this was based on a fanfic I read about Lance's bisexuality. I don't remember the name (so if you do, tell me, dammit) and I adored it. You have to check it out. The other half was me and my own depression. So whatever Lance feels, I've tried to keep it realistic, and how I'd react if that was me.
> 
> I'm insane, so I'd make Lance freak out too. So deal!
> 
> Did you see? Did you see?  
> Ho I casually slipped in all my favourite lyrics in there? Heh.
> 
> I feel like there will be more questions, but comment and I'll get back to you. I don't want to spend too much time on this because I want to click post.
> 
> So signing of-
> 
> WAIT!!
> 
> Oh fuck, have you noticed two things? One, how this is part one of two? This chappie was emotional for me, so I had to have two parts, because I love this version of Lance (he's like me, duh). 
> 
> Second reason, I want Klance, but the next chapter will have like actual, physical, digestable Klance. 
> 
> So stay tuned,
> 
> Canary


End file.
